Due Processes
by Forensiphile
Summary: Sara is accused of evidence tampering and her innocence isn't all that clear, even to those she's closest to. Her past comes into play--will that help or hurt her?
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: Due Processes  
  
AUTHOR: Devanie Maxwell and Andi Dawkins  
  
RATING: R  
  
CATEGORY SACR, G/S UST; eventual GSR  
  
SPOILERS: Up through late season two  
  
SUMMARY: Sara is suspected of evidence tampering and her innocence is not all that clear, even to those she's closest to. Her past comes into play- will it hurt or help her?  
  
ARCHIVAL: After completion we would be honored!  
  
DISCLAIMER: CSI is property of CBS and Alliance-Atlantis Productions; no infringement intended.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to the wonderful members of CSI:GS for keeping us inspired and a special thanks to CSIphile for the direction with the science, Minttown1 for helping to keep things focused, and Becca for logistical help. You all rock!   
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*   
  
  
CHAPTER NOTES: Sorry for the short length of the first chapter. They get longer as the story progresses. Consider this your pre-titles sequence. ;-)   
  
  
  
"...and I said, you know damn well that Britney's are real."  
  
Sara shook her head and rolled her eyes at Nick. "All that setup for that? Here I thought that story had a point."  
  
Catherine followed the exchange with amusement as Warrick walked into the breakroom. He offered a greeting to his co-workers as he grabbed a soda from the small refrigerator. He joined the others at the table as Nick and Sara continued their argument.  
  
"That story had merit." Nick stated with mock seriousness.  
  
"I bet you say that about your work, too." Sara grinned broadly.  
  
"Tell me that's not the best you could come up with."  
  
At that moment a figure in the doorway caught the team's attention.  
  
"Hey, Brass." Warrick greeted him.  
  
"Hey, guys." Brass entered the room, his gaze resting on each person before resting on Sara, who smiled. "I was just coming in here with your assignments."  
  
"Isn't that Grissom's job?" Catherine asked, curiosity piqued.  
  
"Don't tell me he actually called in sick," Nick interjected.  
  
"No, he'll join up with you in a minute. He's in a meeting. He asked me to take care of this, so I'll get right to it." He pushed a file across the table. "Catherine and Nick, we have a 419 just off the strip. Kid on a bike found a DB--two gunshot wounds to the chest. No ID, no wallet or jewelry. Looks like a robbery. No approximation on time of death yet. Vic looks like he's been there a few days, though. There's a possible link to another homicide, but you'll find that all in the report."   
  
Moving on, he looked to Warrick. "You get a jewelry store robbery gone bad. Two vics, one dead and one in the hospital. Store owner was shot after he triggered the alarm. The suspect also got off one round at a customer before fleeing on foot. We have two witness reports and a pretty detailed description. You should probably talk to the second victim, a Robert Matheson, from Sioux Falls, Iowa. He's been upgraded to stable condition. All the info you need is in the file. Grissom may or may not join up with you later." Brass paused, directing his attention to the confused brunette staring at him from across the table.  
  
"Where's my case?" Sara asked, noting there were no more files. "Am I working with Grissom?"  
  
Brass glanced to the side briefly before answering. "In a manner of speaking," he answered, not wanting to draw the others' attention. "Why don't you come with me and we'll meet up with him." He watched as the rest of the unit exited the room. Nick looked back and smiled at Sara as he left. She gave him a distracted wave in return.  
  
"Yeah. Let's go." Something in Brass' demeanor seemed off to her, but she pushed that feeling aside and chalked it up to her infamiliarity to his supervisial technique. She led the way, throwing her water bottle in the trash next to the door. "Is Grissom in his office?"  
  
Brass nodded as he followed her the short distance to their destination. As they reached the office door Sara started to turn the knob.  
  
"I'd knock."  
  
A fleeting look of both irritation and confusion crossed Sara's features. She did as advised, however. After a few seconds the door opened. Instead of Grissom, she found Sheriff Brian Mobley staring back at her.  
  
"Ms. Sidle, please come in." He stepped back, allowing her and Brass to enter.  
  
As Sara's eyes accustomed to the dimmer light of the office, her look of confusion became mild alarm. She first spotted Ecklie sitting in a chair across from Grissom's. Instead of being seated himself, Grissom stood rigidly in the corner, his gaze focused on her. She offered him a hesitant smile that he acknowledged with a barely perceptible upturn of his lips. Mobley crossed the room and sat behind Grissom's desk before speaking again. "Have a seat." He gestured toward the unoccupied chair next to Ecklie.  
  
Sara darted her eyes at Grissom. His attention was on the floor, his body language tense and his eyes dark. "I'll stand, thank you. What is this about?"  
  
Mobley's face remained neutral. "Conrad Ecklie filed the inquiry, so I'll let him aprise you of the situation."  
  
"Inquiry? I don't understand." Sara wasn't liking where this was going.  
  
Ecklie looked at the sheriff before directing his attention to Sara. "Do you remember the 419 you worked six weeks ago? A case involving a Stephen Hendrich. He was suspecting of killing a female vic off of Barclay?"  
  
Sara looked from Grissom to Brass. Finding no help there, she replied, "I remember."  
  
"Do you also remember the circumstances around that case?"  
  
Sara paused in recollection. "It was a stranger killing. Hendrich stabbed a female on vacation outside her off-strip motel. Six times, as I recall." Her eyes hardened briefly, then she continued. "DNA placed the suspect at the scene. He had an alibi, but that was weak. Last I heard he was awaiting trial."  
  
"Did you testify in his hearing?" Ecklie asked, referring to his notes.  
  
"Yes, chain of custody; it was open and shut. Can I ask what's going on?" Sara asked, the knot in her stomach growing.  
  
Ecklie shuffled through the pile of papers on desk. "About a week ago Sheriff Mobley received a tip from someone within the department. they cited some...impropriety...with the evidence in relation to that case. The caller went on to say that they saw you introduce evidence post-collection."  
  
Sara flinched, as though struck. "Are you saying I'm being accused of planting evidence? I can't believe this. I would never..." Her eyes raced wildly around the room until they landed on Grissom, where they stayed as she continued "Who told you this? What kind of evidence do you have that supports this allegation?"  
  
Grissom's eyes shifted from Sara's to Ecklie, as if reiterating Sara's question.  
  
Mobley spoke for the first time since he had turned it over to Ecklie. "Under the terms of departmental policy we're not required to disclose the complaintant unless this goes beyond an in-house investigation. I believe he can summarize what supports the complaint, however."   
  
The room was silent as Ecklie reached for the folder in front of the sheriff, the only noise coming from the hum of the flourescents over Grissom's tarantula habitat. She fixated her gaze on the tank as one of the smaller spiders tried to climb the glass surface only to slide to the gravel below. The silence was broken as Ecklie found the report he was looking for.  
  
"I'm going to read directly from my notes. This is taken both from our own report and the statement filed by the witness." He paused until Sara acknowledged her comprehension with a short nod, her hands clenched at her sides. "I'll try to break this down point-by-point."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"You were working the night of February 27th. According to our documents it was for the case we just referenced." He slipped a copy of the report from his folder and handed it to Sara, who took it as though it was made of glass. "You reported in just after six PM, almost two hours before shift."  
  
"That's not unusual. I'm always here early. You can ask Grissom..." She looked over at him, hoping that he would back her up. He nodded almost absently.  
  
"He's already made his statement. As I said, you reported in early for shift. Your work has been validated by both your supervisor and our own records."  
  
"Then why am I here?"  
  
"We have reason to believe that the Hendrich investigation was compromised by the alteration of DNA evidence after an early inconclusive result. We also have enough evidence to warrant a further investigation into your actions involving that case." Ecklie's voice held a tinge of self-righteousness.  
  
Sara shifted from one foot to another, her arms wrapped in front of her now. "Evidence of what?" She asked, her voice cracking on the last syllable.  
  
Mobley cleared his throat and answered for Ecklie. "This isn't the inquiry, Sidle. The details of the findings will be relayed to you at that meeting. I'm here to inform you of two things. One: a complaint has been filed against you. We have an eyewitness report and computer log-in records that we feel makes you a credible aspect of our internal investigation."  
  
"And two?" Sara looked disconcerted.  
  
"Two: pending this investigation you will be relieved of your duties. The department is suspending you with pay until the date of the inquiry; Upon that date we will either reinstate you or take further disciplinary action."  
  
Sara stepped backwards a foot, the color drained from her face. "So, that's it? I leave?" The adrenaline coursing through her was making her ears ring.  
  
Brass spoke up from his vantage point behind her. "We'll need to take your ID and your gun." He said, sounding legitimately rueful.  
  
Her eyes caught Grissom's once again. She saw his anger, but knew it wasn't directed at her. What she didn't know, however, is why she felt so alone in the now suffocating office. Grissom hadn't said a word. What more did he know?  
  
"Sara?" She barely heard Brass as she reached under her jacket, her hands shaking as she removed her gun in its holster at the small of her back. She then unclipped her ID from the waist of her pants. She straightened her shoulders and walked to the desk, giving both Ecklie and Mobley a direct look as she set the gun and badge down hard on its wood surface. Without looking back she strode out of the office, leaving the door ajar behind her.  
  
Grissom watched her go, his face tense. "Jesus, wasn't there a better way to handle that? That one one of the most one-sided 'meetings' I've ever seen. She was at a complete disadvantage."  
  
"I didn't see you jumping in as her advocate." Ecklie challenged back.  
  
"You tied my hands!" Grissom said, his voice rising as he continued "I know little more than she does. You come to me with these allegations about one of my CSIs, one that I trust implicitly. I brought her here because of her exemplary work history. Now she's being accused of evidence tampering and I would no sooner believe that of her than I would of myself."  
  
"The evidence never lies." Grissom narrowed his eyes as he heard his own words being used against him.  
  
"But Sara doesn't either."  
  
He threw both men an intense look as he walked quickly out the door, slamming it behind him. He walked briskly down the hall and through the double doors leading to the parking lot. He made it outdoors just in time to see Sara's black Explorer pull onto the street with a squeal of the tires. Frustrated, he turned and re-entered the building. He'd talk to Sara later. Right now he had to save her career.  
  
  
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimers, notes in chapter one.  
  
CHAPTER NOTES: Thanks for the feedback. This would have been up sooner, but I had some tweaking to do. Then the Lone Gunmen died on the X Files and sent me into a catatonic state. Blame Chris Carter. Thanks also to Cass, Mush, and Sorcha for their insights into one of the upcoming developments in this story. I may have taken a bit of creative license with the science; please bear with me through the first scene in this chapter. It had to be said sometime. ;-) Stop looking at me like that! I was a Humanities major.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
  
Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, feeling an oncoming headache. Replacing his glasses he looked at the clock on his office computer. It had been nearly four hours since the start of the shift--three since Sara had left--and he had little more information than he had before. He had returned to his desk to review the sign-on records for the CODIS system the night of February 27. Three people had accessed the system during Sara's shift. He scrolled down the page for the twentieth time that night, running the information on the screen through his head again. He clicked on the link to access the CODIS intranet and the now familiar page appeared:  
  
  
System for the LVPD Selection of Thirteen CODIS Core STR Loci and the Seven Standard STR Loci for ENFSI  
  
D13S317- T16S539- Y=AMEL  
  
CASE: VS74856a  
  
REPORTING: S_SIDLE; Badge: 231716LV  
  
DATE REPORTING: 02.27.02 23:17:46  
  
TECHNICIAN: G_SANDERS; ID: 63-8817Internal  
  
  
On the surface the information wasn't incriminating. Sara was the reporting investigator on the case. The results told him that there was indeed a match to a male suspect, later identified as Hendrich, and that Greg had been the technician processing the sample. What they didn't tell him, however, is why Sara had processed the evidence found on the victim for the second time that night after a witness allegedly saw her plant an additional DNA sample. He scrolled down to the report directly preceeding the one he had just read.  
  
  
INCONCLUSIVE - Y-AMEL  
  
CASE: VS74856a  
  
REPORTING: S_SIDLE; Badge: 231716LV  
  
DATE REPORTING: 02.27.02 18:37:16  
  
TECHNICIAN: D_HUTTON; ID 47-2315Internal  
  
  
Those results showed Grissom that the first report had only identified the suspect as male. The only other differences were the time and that one of the day techs had processed the results. He assumed she ran the second sample because of the inconclusive result. Sara was nothing if not thorough and probably returned to the body to see if more DNA evidence could be found. Ecklie asked her about her early arrival because of the time on the first report. She had run the first test at just after 6:30 PM. Sometime between then and 11:17 that evening she had returned to the morgue. It was the convenient nature of the second discovery that Grissom knew bothered Ecklie, especially given the time of the first test and, more importantly, the eyewitness' accusation of impropriety. It was enough to suspend Sara for the length of the investigation, but did it really prove anything? He knew Mobley and Ecklie were not telling him everything; they probably doubted his ability to be impartial. It was one of the reasons he had taken the Warrick investigation out of his own hands the year before. He didn't want to be accused of favoritism, so he had handed it off to Sara. He had wanted to appoint the person he felt was most like himself. A way for him to take charge without taking charge.  
  
Pushing back in his chair he pulled his cell from its case. He needed to discuss this with her. She had been in the dark too long already and the sooner he could put his own unease to rest, the better.  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
Grissom sat in a booth at the restaurant where he had been waiting since shortly after his call to Sara thirty minutes ago. He had chosen a small diner near her apartment rather than one of the places they usually frequented near the lab. They couldn't meet at work for obvious reasons and he feared that someone might see them if they met nearby. He wasn't sure how much the rest of the staff knew and he preferred to save Sara from questions that neither one of them had the answer to.  
  
Movement by the door caught his attention and he saw Sara as she entered, searching the room for him as she did so. He raised his hand to alert her to his location and watched her approach. It was hard to gauge her mood on sight, but the blue-tinged skin below her eyes and her uncharacteristically baggy clothes presented the picture of someone who had a decidedly rough few hours.  
  
"Hey." Sara greeted him while sliding into the opposite booth, her voice lacking any of its usual enthusiasm.  
  
"Hey." He echoed. "You okay?"  
  
Sara looked at him, her mouth curving upwards in a smile that didn't meet the eyes. She reached over and grabbed the small bin of sweetener packets from the edge of the table, focusing her attention on that. "I'm confused." She shrugged. "And angry. I don't understand what happened in there."  
  
"I'm sorry about that; I..." Grissom was cut off by Sara's dismissive hand motion. For the first time since she had sat down he was able to place the look on her face. She was numb.  
  
"I'm not angry at you, just at the situation. I know you wouldn't have chosen to do it that way."  
  
Grissom met her eyes. "No."  
  
They were interrupted by the server asking for her order. Sara declined without looking up.  
  
"Do the others know?"  
  
Grissom shook his head. "I didn't want to say anything until I talked to you. I don't want to lie to them, but I think some discretion is in order and I wanted to leave that up to you."  
  
"You can tell them. I have nothing to hide." Sara's eyes were tired, but her voice was defiant.  
  
"Okay."  
  
Grissom noticed that during their exchange she had organized the sweetener packets into evenly matched stacks of white, blue, and pink. If he was a psychologist he would say it was a desperate grasp at organization for a disorganized mental state. Either way it had quieted the trembling in her hands. They sat in silence for a few moments before he continued.  
  
"What do I tell them, Sara? I don't know anything beyond what Ecklie and Mobley told me in the status meeting. You ran a test, it came back inconclusive, and then you ran a new sample. A new sample that someone is alleging they saw you plant. Beyond that there's nothing to either implicate or clear you."  
  
"I don't know, Grissom." Her voice rose as she said his name. She took a moment to settle herself and continued. "Since I left the office I've replayed what I remember of that night over and over again. The results came back. Nothing was found, so I went back to look for something I might have missed. I found dried blood on the victim's shirt, so I ran that. It came back a match; that's all I know."  
  
"You were lucky?"  
  
"I was observant."  
  
They exchanged their first real smile of the evening. Grissom could tell Sara's mood had relaxed since the beginning of their talk, but he had yet to broach the deeper issue.  
  
"What about the witness?" Grissom asked, watching Sara frown.  
  
"What about him? I don't know who they are or what they saw. All I know is that he wouldn't have seen me doing anything but my job. I collected, I processed, I filed my report, and went home." Sara said this with her usual boldness; Grissom was pleased to see it work its way to the surface. "Do you know something I don't?"  
  
He shook his head firmly. "I'm at a loss, here. All I know is what they said in the office. It's alleged 'that evidence was introduced post-collection.' I don't know whether it was in the morgue or the lab or whether it was done at all." He accentuated the last part. "We have a witness, but it's the timing in conjunction with that witness report that prompted the investigation."  
  
During his last statement Sara had started drumming her fingers against the table; he could see her mind working in overdrive. He reached across and stilled her left hand with his right. She looked up, surprised, but he didn't let go.  
  
"I didn't do it, Gris." Her eyes were imploring him to believe her.  
  
"I know."  
  
"Do you?"  
  
He paused and considered his next words. This kind of conversation didn't come easy to him, but he knew that fact wasn't lost on Sara.  
  
"I told you back in San Francisco that you were one of the brightest minds I had...have...ever worked with. I brought you here because I trust you. Nothing has changed since then.  
  
Sara's eyes were red, but he could tell what he had said had resonated with her. Ironic that his difficulty with emotions lent itself to making statements strike home.  
  
The moment was broken by the ringing of Grissom's cell phone. He released her hand and reached into his jacket pocket. Checking the digital readout he grimaced and held up a finger to tell Sara he had to take the call.  
  
"Grissom."  
  
Sara took the opportunity to steal a french fry from Grissom's half-eaten plate. She chewed it slowly, the rubber consistency making it less than palatable. She watched as Grissom's eyes widened slightly at whatever information he was receiving, his eyes narrowing as he replied. "I'll be right there. I'm just finishing up with something and I'm on my way."  
  
He folded his phone and gestured out the window in the general direction of his car. "I have to get back to the lab. I have work to do on a lead."  
  
Sara nodded. "I'm just going to go back home now. If you find out anything, will you call me?"  
  
"You have my word."  
  
Grissom stood and started to leave the table, his back to Sara as he heard her speak to his back.  
  
"Grissom?"  
  
He turned to see her look up, her eyes brighter and a genuine smile crossing her features. He waited for her to speak again.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
He nodded and walked away, his pace quickening with each step. Since the beginning of his career he had been trained to rely on the evidence, to let it speak for the crime. It was something that grounded him in his work. Now that same principle was having the opposite effect. If he listened to the evidence that he had just been presented with, it only meant one thing.  
  
Sara had just lied to him.  
  
  
  
TBC 


	3. Chapter Three

Continued from Chapter Two; Headers and disclaimer in Chapter One.  
  
CHAPTER NOTES: Thanks to my ever supportive mother for her insight into this chapter. Continued thanks to Amber (Minttown1) and Stepf (CSIphile) who kept us from not raining down a plague of carnivorous locusts on Las Vegas when an element of this story almost caused the whole thing to go to that big recycling bin in the sky.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
Sara exited the diner, the chilly, dry night air hitting her in the face as she scanned the parking lot. Stepping off the curb, she walked toward her car fifty feet away. As she approached she caught movement out of the corner of her right eye. She was surprised to see Grissom's vehicle still in the lot, but more surprised to see Grissom leaning against the hood. He was staring straight ahead, obviously lost in thought. She walked closer, but he didn't acknowledge her presence. When she was within five feet and he still hadn't turned, she cleared her throat before speaking. "Gris?" A few seconds passed with no response. "Grissom?"  
  
Finally he spoke without turning, his eyes still fixed in front of him. "I can count on one hand the people I trust without question, and you've always been one of them. This is the first time I've ever had any reason to reevaluate that."  
  
Sara felt each word of that last sentence like a physical blow, her legs suddenly feeling weak beneath her. She waited for him to continue. When he didn't, she took a deep breath before she managed a shaky "Excuse me?"  
  
He faced her now, his eyes dark and his voice flat. "The phone call I just had in there...that was Mobley. Less than a minute after you looked me in the eye and told me you didn't do it he told me they have indisputable evidence that you did."  
  
"That's impossible." Sara felt ill.  
  
"Videotape, Sara. They have videotape of you in the evidence room that night. We're trained to listen to the evidence and right now it's telling me you're the number one suspect in a capital crime."  
  
Sara heard a distant laugh in the background; somewhere in the recesses of her mind she was offended by this. Dazed, she measured her next words carefully and tried to keep her voice strong. "How can they have video of me in a room I was never in that night?"  
  
"You tell me."  
  
"I can't! Don't treat me like one of our suspects." Sara dropped her arms at her sides in frustration. "Have you seen the tape?" She asked rhetorically with more than a hint of anger.  
  
"Why would they lie about something like this?" Grissom snapped back, equally frustrated.  
  
"Why would I?"  
  
Grissom looked down at the asphalt. After a few moments of silence he looked up to see a single tear roll down Sara's cheek. She hastily wiped it away with the back of her hand. She spoke again, barely audible over the sound of the traffic now. "You told me you trusted me. That nothing had changed. Has it now?"  
  
He met her eyes and paused for a long time before speaking. "I'm trying to figure out whether I don't want to believe you could do this or whether I know you wouldn't." His honesty hit her like a blunt force to the abdomen. Sara's face tightened as she shook her head. She turned and walked in the direction of her car, her shoulders slightly hunched. He looked up again when he heard her speak.  
  
"As much as you rely on tangible evidence, I'd hope that you would trust me more. Because if you don't believe me, I don't have a chance." Without waiting for his reaction she turned and walked away again. She barely made it to her car before the sobs began.  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
After returning from the diner Grissom had barely made it to his office chair when a courier had arrived with a manilla envelope; it had already been tagged as evidence. He donned gloves before sliding an unlabelled videocassette from its case. Standing, he moved to turn off the lights and closed the blinds before returning to his desk. He slid the tape into the VCR and waited.  
  
The timestamp identified the date as February twenty-seventh; the time was 22:46:32,or just before eleven PM. The video capture was grainy, but in color, and he could see the shelves, cabinets, and coolers that held all the department's evidence for active and recently closed cases. Several moments passed before he spotted movement at the bottom of the screen. He saw a familiar form enter the frame. Without thinking he paused the tape and closed his eyes. If he was to watch this with any form of objectivity he had to distance himself mentally. This wasn't Sara, his colleague and friend; this was Sara Sidle, the suspect.  
  
He restarted the tape and watched as she entered the room. He immediately noticed her appearance. Her dark hair was pulled up and secured with a clip; it looked to be silver. She was wearing slim cut black pants and a blue tank top. Typical Sara, he thought, then castigated himself for the thought. He saw her cross the room to the small refrigerator that stored blood and DNA evidence. The door opened and she appeared to search the contents for several moments before removing what appeared to be a small vial. She then turned back toward the door and exited. It was as if this was any other trip during any other shift. The problem rested in the fact that Sara had denied entering evidence at all that day. There were also no records of her visit; in order to remove evidence from storage one was required to sign a log for accountability purposes. He had viewed a copy of the records from that day; Sara's signature was nowhere to be found.  
  
He rubbed his eyes and rewound the tape. The details remained the same. Sara had entered evidence before the second positive DNA match. In her report it stated that she had gone back to the body to collect the sample. When it came to her work Sara was extremely focused and self disciplined. Forgetting that she had made a trip to storage would be uncharacteristic enough; for her to forget signing the log would be cause for alarm. Sara simply didn't make those kind of errors. He stared at her image on the screen until a voice broke him from his thoughts.  
  
"Hey, Grissom." Catherine stood in the doorway. He hadn't noticed the door had opened. He quickly hit the stop button on the VCR, the screen now casting the room in a blue glow. Catherine moved to turn on the lights.  
  
"Can you leave those off? I have a headache," he said, sounding more irritated than he had intended.  
  
"Okay." Catherine moved to the chair across the desk from his. "What's wrong with you?"  
  
Grissom stared at her a moment, pondering how much he should tell her. He remembered Sara's comment in the diner about not having anything to hide and then proceeded to fill Catherine in on everything, from the meeting with Sara earlier that evening to the tape he had just watched. She listened in silence before responding with a quick exhale of breath. "Wow.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Do you think she did it?" Catherine asked, her voice neutral.  
  
"Based on the evidence, I would have to say yes. Based on my personal experience...that would be a definitive no."  
  
"The evidence sounds pretty definitive."  
  
Grissom regarded her, his brow furrowed. "The tape, the contrived timeframe, her report, and her history with these kinds of cases all point to her."  
  
"But you don't sound convinced." It was a statement, not a question, and Grissom didn't respond. Catherine continued "Why?"  
  
"Something doesn't add up."  
  
"From what you've told me it seems like it does." Catherine sounded rueful.  
  
"If all the parts of the puzzle are there, then why does the finished product look so distorted?"  
  
"Maybe it isn't the puzzle that's distorted, but your vision."   
  
"What?" Grissom couldn't believe his ears.  
  
"All I'm saying is that maybe you're too close to this." Catherine said, delicately.  
  
"Do you honestly think Sara is capable..." He trailed off, taking a deep breath to regroup. "I don't know."  
  
"You said it yourself; all the pieces are there."  
  
Grissom shook his head. "All but one."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Sara can be emotional, she can be headstrong, but she's never given me any reason to doubt her. She's honest almost to a fault. She wouldn't lie."  
  
"Maybe her emotions finally got in the way." Catherine hypothesized. Grissom couldn't tell if she was playing devil's advocate. He could only assume she was. Either way he was finding that as she pushed toward the direction of the evidence he found himself pushing back. He felt like his head was clear for the first time that night.  
  
"Let me amend that. She wouldn't lie to me." He sounded resolute now.  
  
They sat in loaded silence for several minutes. When Catherine spoke it was with hesitation. "How close were you in San Francisco?"   
  
Grissom looked almost amused. "Catherine, even if that implication had merit I wouldn't allow myself to be swayed from the facts."  
  
Catherine nodded. "Of course; I'm sorry." She paused, "But if you aren't going with the evidence, then what?"  
  
"I'm going with my gut. Something I should have done since the meeting." He stood, grabbing his keys before heading to the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" Catherine swiveled her head to face him. but he was already gone.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Grissom had good intentions. He had meant to just take a drive to clear his head instead of going straight home. As he looked back up to Sara's window, he realized that he should have known his subconscious would have other plans. But sleep wasn't an option for him   
tonight anyway unless he talked to Sara; he had no doubt that she would be awake. On a good day sleep was scarce for her. He only wished he knew what he was going to say.   
  
He was honest before, in the parking lot. But it was a truth that never should have existed in the first place. He had to make it right before the damage was irreparable. He got out of his car and crossed the street to her apartment complex. It was an unusually dark night. The streetlight seemed only to encompass a circle on the pavement, leaving corners and alleys black. There were no cars or people, just he and the darkness and the wind. His pace quickened.  
  
He reached the main door and typed in the entrance key. 5045. He only felt slightly guilty for abusing this piece of information. The rest of him was too busy being relieved it worked.   
  
Grissom took the stairs, mostly because he didn't want to stop moving. When he arrived at Sara's apartment his heart plummeted into his stomach. Her door was open. She was the type of person who never settled for less than triple locks: at least one deadbolt.   
  
He didn't have a gun.  
  
It was too dark to see anything from the crack in the door. He slowly pushed it the rest of the way open and looked around. Her jacket and purse were haphazardly thrown on the floor; her keys were on the table. Relief washed over him as he spotted Sara across the room, but his anxiety hadn't completely ebbed away.  
  
The television was on, but the station had gone off the air. A high-pitched tone emanated from the speakers. It was a terrible noise; the sound waves clashed and stung his ears like nails on a chalkboard. Sara was sitting on the couch, staring at the remote control on her coffee table as if it were the bane of her existence. But she could simply not muster the energy or will to pick it up.   
  
Sara was not drinking, binge-eating, or even crying, although her face was spotted and swollen. She sat there, the multi-colored lights from the television casting her in a disturbing glow. Grissom picked up the changer and turned off the TV, silencing the speakers but not the ringing in his ears. Now the only light in the room came from a street lamp outside her window and the glowing of the digital clock. 4:07 AM. She had not looked at him. In fact, she had not yet taken her eyes off the spot on the table where the remote had been.  
  
"You know ... it's easy to say you trust somebody. People say it all the time." Grissom sat down beside her. She made no move to get away or be closer. He stared at his hands and wondered if these conversations with Sara would ever get easier. "When there's no reason to distrust, then trust becomes just another word. If it's never challenged then it is based on bad faith. And if it is challenged and you fail the test, then you never really trusted the person in the first place. And today, I failed miserably. I am immeasurably sorry...I wish I could take it back."   
  
When Sara finally met his eyes, her look was not warm.  
  
"Sara."  
  
"Grissom, don't trust me because your philosophy says you should."   
  
"That's not what I'm doing."  
  
She couldn't hold his gaze and looked back to the table."Yes it is. You feel guilty and you rationalized why you should believe me. But you don't. You don't trust me deep in your heart."  
  
"That's the one place where I always have."   
  
Sara looked up, surprised, searching his eyes for sincerity and found it. She nodded and a small smile appeared without her consent. "Where do we go from here?" Her voice broke a little on the last word, and she felt the telltale knot in her throat that meant tears were at bay. Ten minutes ago she would have sworn she had cried them all. But these were a different kind.  
  
"Well, since we don't have the tape or any evidence to work with right now, we'll just review what happened over and over until we can find a contrariety. Then we either pass out from exhaustion or go get some food."  
  
Sara half sobbed and half laughed. "Thank you." She smiled the first real smile since the ordeal had begun, and it felt so right. Grissom returned it with equal magnitude. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, grasping his shirt and burying her face into his neck. She held him like her life depended on it, like he was her last link to reality. And maybe he was. He stroked her back soothingly for a while, but it was an awkward position sitting down. Their legs forced them to twist and reach. He shifted so his back was against the armrest, and she reluctantly twisted in his arms to lean back into his chest.   
  
Grissom swallowed with emotion. It was so easy to just be with Sara. Too easy. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and she smiled at the gesture even while her eyes remained closed. He held her there until her breathing evened out. Apparently passing out from exhaustion was going to be sooner rather than later for Sara. But they would have plenty of time to talk. This peace was what she needed right now.  
  
Because tomorrow things were only going to get worse.  
  
  
  
  
  
TBC 


	4. Chapter Four

Continued from Chapter Three.  
  
CHAPTER FOUR NOTES: Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Real life and site work interfered. Grissom and Sara could use the sleep, so consider it a gift to them. I promise to be a bit more productive now.  
  
  
  
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*  
  
  
  
  
  
Sara woke up to the late morning sun in her face, its intensity barely hindered by the partially opened blinds. She blinked slowly in confusion. She didn't have mini-blinds in her bedroom. The events of the previous evening came trickling back into her mind. She rolled her head away from the light and toward the back of the couch. It wasn't until her cheek made contact with skin that her eyes popped open. Grissom was still behind her on the couch; apparently she had spent the night using his chest for a pillow. She was now staring at the arm draped along her side. While it wasn't an unpleasant way to wake up, it was an atypical one. She wondered what the best way to extricate herself would be. Before making a move she rested there for a moment, enjoying his warmth and the sound of his heartbeat. She was grateful to him for what he had said and his faith in her; she only hoped that whatever happened over the next several days didn't do anything to compromise that trust.  
  
She opened one eye and checked the time on Grissom's watch; it was almost eleven. They had been asleep almost seven hours. She wasn't sure what was usual for Grissom, but she rarely slept for more than four. Either she was overtaxed from the day before or Grissom was an insomnia cure personified. She gently slid out from under his arm and stood. His eyes remained closed. She observed him for a moment and smiled, then walked to the kitchen to start some coffee. As she became more awake she was more aware of the headache already starting. Sleep had given her a respite from her problems, but it hadn't solved them. She worked silently at the counter, lost in thought. She had just turned the coffeemaker on when she heard movement behind her.  
  
"Good morning." Grissom said, now sitting upright. He rubbed his eyes before reaching for the pair of glasses that had fallen to the floor.  
  
"Morning." Sara turned and gave him a light smile. He gave her a tentative one in return, his eyes still heavy from sleep.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
She considered this for a moment. "Better. I was in a really bad state last night. I think I still am; it just hasn't hit me again like that yet."  
  
Grissom nodded. "That was a lot to absorb."  
  
"I'm embarassed. I can't remember a time when I was that out of it."  
  
"Don't be. You get dragged on the carpet, accused of a federal crime, suspended from your job, and your best friend acts as though he doesn't believe in you. I'd be more concerned if you didn't lose it."  
  
Sara looked at him, his face inscrutable. She was surprised that he had called himself her best friend. She considered that to be true, but she wouldn't dare to think he saw himself in that role. She also heard a veiled apology in his words. She filed away his near-approval of her emotional outburst for later; there was too much cycling through her head right now.  
She changed the subject. "You want some coffee? It's just going to be a few minutes."  
  
"That sounds good, thanks." They stared at each other a few moments until Sara broke eye contact. "I'll be right back. I'm just going to grab something from the other room."  
  
"Okay." Grissom watched her as she walked toward the hallway that led to the rest of the apartment. He surveyed the area he could see from his vantage point on the couch. It was a fairly small space. Her furniture was minimal, but the walls were lined with books, computer equipment, and a fairly high end entertainment system. The first two things didn't surprise him, the latter did. He also noticed the near lack of photos or knick-knacks. There was one picture; he assumed the couple in it was her parents. His eyes had just moved to the clutter covering her table and counter when his phone rang.  
  
"Grissom."  
  
"Gil. This is Conrad."   
  
Grissom rested his forehead in his other hand for a moment. "Yes, Ecklie?"  
  
"Are you at home?"  
  
"Yes." Grissom lied.  
  
"Well, sorry to infringe on your off time, but we'll need you to come in early. I just talked to the DA on the Hendrich case and we're going to have Sidle's inquiry hearing today."  
  
Grissom took a deep breath. "Did anyone happen to mention this to Sara?" He asked, putting the emphasis on her first name.  
  
"I figured you could tell her."  
  
"Damn it, Conrad, don't lay this on me!"  
  
"Save it. You know she'd rather hear it from you. Have her meet us in meeting room C at four. We'll have an escort meet her at the door to allow her entrance."  
  
Grissom punched the end button on his phone, his own tension overriding his sense of etiquette.  
  
Sara took that moment to come back into the living room, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and in fresh clothes. "Who was that?"  
  
"Ecklie."  
  
She scrunched her nose in disgust, but her expression was apprehensive."And?"  
  
"They're holding the inquiry this afternoon. Four o' clock at the department."  
  
Sara walked toward the kitchen, returning her attention to the coffee. "That's fine. They'll ask me some questions; I'll answer them. Put this to rest."  
  
"Sara..." Her sudden lightness was disconcerting to him. He stood now. "This could be very serious."  
  
She turned around. "Do you think I don't know that, Grissom?" Her voice was sharp. She lowered it as she added. "I'm sorry, I know. I'm just at a loss, here. This isn't fair. How am I supposed to be able to defend myself when I can't even get this straight in *my* head. This is moving way too fast."  
  
Grissom took a few steps toward her. "I know. We'll figure something out. You'll have a court appointed advocate there and I'll help you." He checked his watch. "We have four hours until the hearing. I'm going to go home, get changed, and then I'll call you. We can go over everything we know and hopefully come up with something that will keep Mobley and the DA off your back."  
  
Sara flashed him a grateful smile. "I'm going to go over a timeline of that night. See if I can't get a handle on the data from the login records. "I'm at a loss about the videotape, though. They can't have film of me doing something I wasn't. It's impossible."  
  
"Not impossible. Implausible."  
  
Sara quirked her lips."There's evidence, Grissom." She said, raising an eyebrow in mock incredulity. He was happy to see some spark back in her eyes.  
  
"I don't doubt the evidence; I doubt the humans involved. You're just not one of them."  
  
Sara hid a grin and walked with him toward the door. They stopped in the small foyer. Meeting his eyes she turned serious. "Thanks again."  
  
Grissom half-smiled. "Thanks for the lodging."  
  
Sara laughed softly and then surprised herself by wrapping her arms around his waist in a quick hug. She felt his lips press against her hair. After a moment she withdrew and took a step back. "I'll talk to you in a bit, then."  
  
He nodded and exited through the door behind him. Things were changing between him and Sara. He just wondered why it was happening now.  
  
  
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*  
  
  
  
Grissom arrived for the inquiry thirty minutes early. Entering the hearing room he was surprised to see Sara already seated at the table. He had just hung up the phone after their conversation an hour ago. They had spoken for nearly 90 minutes and were no closer to a theory on the videotape. He had a feeling, however, that if they could explain that the computer and witness evidence would fall apart quickly.  
  
Sara was seated next to a middle-aged woman; he assumed that was the advocate that they had orovided for the hearing. He recognized a few of the others; an older man seated across from Sara was the district attorney. Grissom couldn't help but think that was a bad sign. He wasn't required to be there. Ecklie and Mobley were standing against the wall opposite of Sara; he wondered if that was telling. He took a seat diagonally from her and took in her appearance. Her eyes were focused on the legal pad in front of her, but she looked calm. He could only imagine what she was feeling if he were this tense, but she was holding it in well. Her hair was up and she had applied slightly more makeup than he was used to seeing her in. She wore a cream colored jacket over a silk blouse. She looked older and more polished; it was quite a difference from the woman he had left in a ponytail, jeans, and a sweatshirt only hours ago.   
  
She caught his gaze and smiled. He wondered if he should give her any last minute words of support, but the opening door caught their attention. Two men in dark suits entered and found chairs at the end of the table. Mobley took his cue to speak.  
  
"These are Agents Edison and Wilcox from the Vegas Bureau. They'll be conducting the inquiry. For the record this is an investigation into the actions of Sara Sidle, a criminalist with the LVPD, and her activities during the shift beginning on February 27th of this year. This hearing is to determine whether criminal or further disciplinary action will be taken."  
  
Grissom looked at Sara again. Her facial expression hadn't changed, but her eyes relayed her fear.   
  
Mobley identified everyone in the room for the agents. Each person was also handed a copy of the evidence summary and the witness statement. For several moments the only noise in the room was the sound of shuffling papers. Grissom watched as Sara simply slipped her copies under the pad. He knew she had those pages memorized already; looking at them now would probably only add to her stress.  
  
Agent Jared Edison stood and began to speak. He was the younger of the two agents; his blond hair and soft features made him seem less intimidating than the burlier Agent Wilcox. He immediately directed his attention to Sara, who was listening to the woman next to her as she spoke into her left ear.  
  
"Ms. Sidle," he began, smiling at her. She gave him a nervous one in return. "For the interests of all concerned, I'm going to make this brief. Do you have a fairly clear recollection of the night in question?"  
  
"Yes, fairly clear." Her voice didn't reveal the tension that her face held.  
  
"Do you recall running two lab tests on DNA samples collected in the Hendrich case?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What were the results?"  
  
Sara recited the technical details of the findings with the trained detachment of an investigator. Grissom had an odd sense of pride that she could remember every detail of the results under such intense pressure.  
  
"So you ran the second collected sample and linked the results to Hendrich."  
  
"Yes."  
  
There was a pause. "Did you remove evidence from the secured location in order to falsely implicate Stephen Hendrich?"  
  
Sara didn't flinch. "No."  
  
Edison moved to a television in the corner of the room, slipping a tape into the VCR at its base. Without speaking he pressed play. Grissom had seen the tape several times. He chose to watch Sara as she saw it for her first. As she stared at the screen Grissom could only describe her look as morbid fascination as she watched herself do exactly what she had been accused of. Going to the evidence locker wasn't a crime, but she had already testified to the fact that she had not entered the room that day. No logs were signed. If she had gone in there she had gone covertly. Her eyes didn't leave the screen as her advocate spoke quickly into her ear. Sara didn't seem to register her words.  
  
Edison pressed the stop button. "Was that you, Ms. Sidle?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can you explain why you were there?"  
  
"I wasn't." Sara's voice shook slightly now.  
  
"Can you explain why there is videotape evidence, computer records, and an eyewitness account that all seem to tell a different story?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Can you offer us something that tells us that you didn't plant the sample?"  
  
"Not without more time." Sara looked agitated now; her formerly cool facade was crumbling with each question.  
  
The two agents and the district attorney met near the door and conferred with Mobley and two uniformed officers. Unable to ascertain what was going on, Grissom sought out Sara's gaze. She looked nauseous. He reached under the table with his foot and pressed the toe of his shoe to hers. Her face didn't change, but her shoulders relaxed slightly.  
  
The next several minutes passed in a blur. He watched as the two officers approached Sara and as one placed a rectangular packet in front of the woman next to her Grissom knew what was coming. He sat, stunned, as one of the officers brought it home. "Sara Sidle, you're under arrest for evidence tampering in the homicide case of Stephen A. Hendrich..."  
  
Grissom didn't hear the rest as he was already on his feet and halfway to Mobley, who was now standing near the door. "You son of a bitch! You knew this was coming...You knew this was coming and you let her hang herself!"  
  
Mobley barely reacted. "Calm down, Grissom. She had a chance. She couldn't explain herself. This is protocol."  
  
"Protocol," Grissom shouted, "would be giving her more than 24 hours to build a case for herself!"  
  
He turned as he saw Sara being led from the room. She presented an eerie calm; if it weren't for the officer escorting her and the flexi-cuffs around her wrists he'd be surprised that she had just been arrested. He called after her. "Sara, we'll fix this. Get an..."  
  
"Grissom, you can talk to her later. She's undoubtedly be released on ROR and you'll have plenty of time before the trial to work this out." Mobley's even tone served only to make Grissom more angry. He pushed past the sheriff and toward the door. Before leaving, he turned back to Mobley and Ecklie, who had just joined him.  
  
"At the very least you've just ruined her career. An arrest means automatic termination. You knew that coming into this hearing."  
  
"She ruined her own career, Gil. Watch your step or you'll have your own problems. Don't be a hero on this."  
  
Grissom slammed the door on his way out. They had just been ambushed and for the first time in his life he hated his profession.  
  
  
  
TBC 


	5. Chapter Five

Continued from chapter four.  
  
Disclaimers, notes in chapter one. Thanks for the continued feedback and support! Much virtual candy goes to Amber and Midnight Caller for their motivational techniques.   
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
07:30  
  
Clark County Jail  
  
  
There were 5,142 tiny holes in the ceiling panels above Sara's cell. She knew this because she had spent the last sixteen hours counting them; she had even done a proof for it in her head.  
  
Other than that she had sat in the darkness, the only light in the room coming from the thin strip of plexiglass in the door to the hall outside her cell. She sat on the cot, her back pressed against the block wall. She had been in the same position since the previous evening; she had only moved twice, once to use the restroom and the other to call her lawyer. She had tried to reach Grissom, but had only gotten his voice mail. She shifted uncomfortably. She had tried to sleep, but her racing thoughts and atypical schedule made than an impossibility. She wrapped her arms around herself; the chill in the room was only emphasized by the cotton garment she was given to wear after she had been incarcerated. She was cold, she was stressed, and the gnawing in her stomach was only increasing. She had chosen to skip dinner and now her stomach was eating away at itself.   
  
She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, only to reopen them when she heard the bolt slide on the door. She sat up straight as a uniformed officer entered, but sat back again as she saw Grissom come in behind him. He approached while the guard stood opposite from them. Instead of looking at Grissom Sara bent her head, limp hair falling into her face.  
  
Grissom immediately recognized the body language; she wasn't crying, but angry. Her posture just conveyed that she was too tired to address it in her usual straightforward way. He took another step toward her. "Sara." No response. "Sara, look at me." He said, louder this time.  
  
She looked up, her eyes dark and her lips pressed into a firm line. "It's about time you showed up," she stated without a hint of humor.  
  
"I have a job to do." As soon as he saw her reaction he knew that was the wrong thing to say.   
  
Her face blanched and she looked as though she might burst into tears, but instead she settled for a chilly "At least some of us do."  
  
He met her angry stare with a neutral one. He reminded himself that in a course of three days Sara had lost her job, been arrested, and now had been through the demeaning experience of being incarcerated. He took a deep breath before replying. "You know that's not what I meant."  
  
She regarded him a moment before softening her expression. "I know."   
  
They looked at each other for a few silent moments before Grissom spoke again. "They granted the ROR."  
  
Sara sighed, relieved. "So, I'm free?"  
  
"Pending the outcome of the trial." He held out a hand and pulled her to her feet. They walked to where the guard was holding the door open now. Sara winced under the bright light of the hallway. Grissom took in her appearance; the cotton jumpsuit hung loosely on her light frame and for the first time he saw bags under her eyes. She looked terrible.   
  
The guard handed her a bag. "You need to change. Your clothes are in there and your other personal effects are in the manila envelope."  
  
"Thanks." Sara motioned down the hall. "I'll meet you in the car, Grissom." She watched him walk away before pushing open the door to the restroom.  
  
He sat in the car as she approached. He pressed the button to unlock the passenger door and she nearly leapt in. Once she had clasped her seatbelt she leaned back, looking happy to be anywhere other than where she just was. As he turned the key in the ignition he paused. "Are you feeling any better?"  
  
"Relatively, yes."  
  
"You're overdressed." He said lightly She was now back in the same clothes as she had worn to the hearing the yesterday. It seemed like days ago now.  
  
She nodded and watched the traffic outside her window. "I can't wait to go home, put on some warm clothes, and sleep." She turned toward him as she saw a highway marker flash by. "This isn't the way to my apartment."  
  
Grissom fumbled behind him with one arm and slid a small luggage bag from the back seat. He slid it onto her lap.  
  
"This is mine." Sara said, confused.  
  
"You are astute. I knew you kept an extra change of clothes in your locker." Grissom watched as Sara raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. "I'd like you to come home with me." He smiled as he watched her reaction. "Catherine, Warrick, and Nick are coming over. I'd appreciate their help on this and they've agreed to donate some of their off time to your case."  
  
Sara suddenly appeared uncomfortable. "I'm grateful for that, really, but I don't know if I'm ready to...process...this."  
  
"You don't have time to not process it, Sara. I know what an overwhelming experience this must be for you, but take the last twenty-four hours and then imagine spending every day for the rest of your life like that."  
  
Sara nodded and averted her eyes back to the street. They sat in silence for several minutes. The scenery changed again. They were in a residental area now; she recognized it as Grissom's complex. As they pulled into the driveway she reached over with her left hand and rested it on his knee. He looked down and watched her fingers tighten slightly, then returned his attention to her face. She spoke softly. "I just wanted to say thank you again. I'm sorry about earlier. I was trapped in my head, I had a bad night, and I felt alone. You're the only one..."  
  
Grissom cut her off. "I thought you were fairly passive. I've seen angry Sara and that wasn't it." At her smile he continued, "I'm sorry for not getting there sooner. It was a busy shift and I can't be seen giving this precedence. If I have any hope of helping to clear you I have to be as objective as possible."  
  
"I know." She removed her hand and opened the car door. She grabbed her bag and walked up the path to his front door. She waited while he fumbled for his key. As they stepped into the foyer the cool air blasted against her face. "It's cold in here."  
  
"I can turn the air off."  
  
"That's okay. Can I borrow a sweater or something?"  
  
Grissom walked toward his bedroom. "Do you want to take a shower?"  
  
She laughed mirthlessly. "Had one at check-in."  
  
"Ah." He threw her a navy-blue sweatshirt. As she pulled it over her head she noticed it smelled of him.  
  
"When are the others getting here?"  
  
"Noon. It's a little after eight now. You could take a nap if you wanted." He offered.  
  
"Yeah, cool." She suddenly couldn't keep her eyes open. "Do you have an extra blanket? I'll crash on the couch."  
  
Grissom thought for a moment. "You can take the bed. My couch is hard as a rock. It essentially only has aesthetic value."   
  
Sara looked at him, her face wary. "I don't want to take your bed from you. You need to sleep, too."  
  
"No, I have some things to do. Really, take it."   
  
"Okay." She responded softly. She surprised both of them by crossing over to him and resting her hands on his sides. She reached up and kissed him lightly on the side of the mouth. His curious eyes met her unreadable ones. As she turned to go get ready for bed she felt a hand encircle her wrist. She pivoted around and felt Grissom's lips capture hers, his hands trailing down her sides to land on her waist. She felt him deepen the kiss and she responded in kind, the contact making every nerve ending in her body on edge. She ran her hands up his back until her hands rested just under his shoulder blades. She reveled in the sensation for almost a full minute before she pulled back; the realization of what was happening struck her. She stepped back a foot and regarded Grissom, who looked slightly dazed. Sara spoke again. "I'm not sure we should be doing that right now."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
She smiled at the irony. "There have been so many times I've waited to hear those words from you, but this is not one of them."  
  
He understood. "Later." It was an agreement, not an appointment. It could be that night, a week, or even a year. They couldn't afford to be distracted and the revelation of a relationship could be crippling to Grissom's participation in her case. He met her eyes again. "I'm going to go." He motioned toward the living room.  
  
Sara nodded and sat on the bed, pulling off her shoes and she watched him leave. Any thought on what had just happened would have to wait; her exhaustion was suffocating now. She turned back the blanket and crawled underneath, burying her nose in Grissom's pillow. She felt warm for the first time in days.  
  
  
12:10 PM  
  
  
The doorbell rang and Grissom rose to answer it, pushing the folders on his lap onto the coffee table. He had spent the last four hours searching for some kind of break in the reports he had been given, but they seemed clean of any loopholes. Too clean. He reached the door and looked through the peephole to see his three colleagues. He unlatched the bolt and swung it open. "Hey."  
  
"Hey." Catherine echoed as she walked into the living room, Nick and Warrick right behind her. She looked around the room. "Sara not here yet?"  
  
"She's here." Sara said groggily from the hallway. The others looked up to see their friend and former co-worker rubbing her eyes; mussed hair completing the look set by her own pajama pants and Grissom's oversized sweatshirt.  
  
Catherine looked at Grissom who looked back with no discernable expresssion. She returned her attention to Sara. "How are you?" She asked, internally wincing at how shallow her greeting sounded.  
  
Sara shrugged and gave a self-conscious half smile at the awkwardness of the exchange. She was diverted on her path to the couch by Nick. "Hey Sara."  
  
She smiled at his earnest expression. "Hey Nick."  
  
"I'm really sorry about everything. We'll figure it out though, I promise." He gave her a quick hug. Warrick nodded and did the same.  
  
"Thanks, guys." She spotted Grissom on the couch and immediately gravitated to him. Seeing books, papers, and pictures laid out on the remaining cushions she sat on the floor next to his legs. She watched as Catherine took the chair across from them and Nick and Warrick each took a stool from the bar in the kitchen. There was silence for a few moments before Grissom spoke.  
  
"So, let's get started." He handed each person a sheet of paper. It was a copy of the original eyewitness report; the only difference was that the names of the witness and of the complaintant were blacked out. "I'm starting with this because it's the most subjective. The witness said they saw Sara introduce the sample post collection. The report is vague enough as to be almost dismissable, but the timeframe and context seem to fit in with the videotape. I think if we can find the key to one we can unlock both of them."  
  
"What about the computer login records?" Nick asked.  
  
"Same thing. If anything the login reports only tell me she was doing her job. If Sara didn't force an inconclusive--" Sara looked up at him; he rested a hand on her shoulder as reassurance "--the only thing she's guilty of is diligence. It's why this hasn't seemed right to me from the beginning."  
  
Warrick shook his head. "Man, they have a strong case, yet no case at all."  
  
Catherine noticed that Grissom had yet to remove his hand from Sara's shoulder. "Is there anyone in the lab that might have issues with you? Anyone who might want to get you in trouble?"  
  
"It's all I've been thinking about. I don't think so. I don't know any of them outside of work. I've never had any contact with them that was less than professional. They do their work; I do mine."  
  
"And that doesn't explain the tape." Nick reminded.  
  
"It has to be a forgery." Warrick said, matter of fact.  
  
Grissom shook his head. "I took it to Archie in A/V. He said he couldn't rule out that it was a fake, but the watermarks look to be authentic. It's very difficult to forge those without access to high-end editing equipment. That doesn't rule it out, but when you take into account that the same person would also have to have access to our surveillance system and have the motive--it's stacked against us there."  
  
Catherine directed a question at Grissom. "Did you rewatch the tape?"  
  
"Multiple times. I even examined the tapes from other parts of the building...the entrance, DNA, ballistics, anywhere she might have gone that shift."  
  
The room fell into silence, each of them deep in thought. Grissom absently brushed Sara's hair back from where his hand rested. He felt her tense slightly as his fingers grazed her neck. He pulled them back and glanced at the back of her head. A clip she had worn the previous day still held some of her hair; the loose strands gave her a rather charming disheveled look. He narrowed his eyes in recollection of something he had seen only a short time ago. Sara jumped as he stood to his feet quickly, dislodging most of the paperwork sitting beside him. Startled, the rest of the team looked at him. He gave Sara an uncharacteristically big grin.  
  
"I think I know how to clear you."  
  
  
  
TBC 


End file.
